Kitchen Patrol
by Tempo
Summary: Macaroni and cheese... anyone else thinking food fight? BoothBrennan Oneshot


This was a spur-of-the-moment, 2AM kind of story inspired by the latest episode (with the glowing girl). This was how my shippy mind saw the story continuing after the screen faded to black.

I'm tired. I don't even have the energy to format this foreword properly. I haven't proofread this thing at all. I just started writing and didn't look back. Please be forgiving.

* * *

"Eat the last of it."

"I can't."

"Booth, if you don't eat it, it'll go to waste."

"Why can't you eat it?"

"I don't need the calories."

"Bullshit."

"I'm full!"

"So am I!"

The remainder of the macaroni and cheese sat between the bickering pair, waiting for its verdict.

"Bones, put it in the refrigerator."

"I don't eat leftovers."

"Really?"

"Too much opportunity for bacteria buildup. Why can't YOU take it?"

"It can't be THAT much bacteria. And... my fridge is broken."

"Actually certain kinds of bacteria don't need a large population to affect human digestive systems. Well then where have you been keeping your food?"

"I've never gotten sick off of day-old food, Bones! I haven't been keeping food in my apartment for a couple of weeks... I--"

"You know you could have used my fridge."

"And do what, drive over here at 3AM when I want a sip of orange juice?"

"Good point."

"The infallible logic of Seeley Booth prevails once more."

"No."

"What?"

"Not infallible."

"What do you mean? You said 'good point.' I won."

"Get your fridge fixed."

"Don't change the subject."

"No, I mean if you'd get your fridge fixed, you wouldn't even have to think of driving over here at 3AM."

"Oh."

Bones sat back in her chair and smirked.

"I win. And now, it's time for you to clean up."

"You're impossible."

"And you're procrastinating. Clean. Now."

"Yes, master..."

It was then that the light glinted across the shiny surface of his spoon, and Booth was hit with a moment's inspiration...

"WHOA! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?"

Brennan turned to see Booth, silver catapult post-launch and heading for more ammo.

"You wouldn't dare..."

The spoon scooped up another noodle, and was almost ready to send its cheesy projectile airborne when Brennan struck back.

Booth watched the large glob of macaroni slide down the front of his shirt, and slowly raised his eyes to meet Brennan's.

"Oh it's on."

The spoon clattered to the floor as Booth launched himself out of his seat and, grabbing a huge handful of pasta, stalked toward his new nemesis. Brennan's eyes grew wide as she realized his intentions, but didn't quite move fast enough to escape the attack. She yelped as she felt Booth's unoccupied hand tug at the front of her shirt, and let out a squeal as she felt the gooey mess slide between her breasts and down her stomach.

"Bastard!"

"Sorry, babe... it had to be done."

Not noticing the term of endearment that would have otherwise irritated her, Brennan laughed and launched herself at her attacker, her sudden ambush knocking him off balance and causing them to fall to the floor in a heap. They struggled for control, rolling around briefly before Brennan's strength wavered and she allowed her wrists to be pinned to the floor by Booth. Kneeling, he moved to straddle her for better leverage before leaning down to taunt her, bringing his face mere inches away from hers.

"Ha! Let's see you get out of this one, Ms. Martial Arts."

"Booth..."

In that moment, Booth realized that since he pinned her, Brennan hadn't struggled. It only took one more moment for him to realize why.

The silence pressed down on them as they made their way toward breaking the Guinness Book stare-down record, each waiting for the other to speak.

"Booth--"

Something inside him snapped, and the countless hours, months, and years of self-control went out the window. Whatever she was going to say was lost as he sealed his lips against hers. He pulled back before she had time to respond, silencing her whimper of protest with a gentle finger. A devious smirk crossed his handsome features as he looked down at the flushed visage of his partner and best friend.

"I win."

* * *

With love, from Tempo. 


End file.
